The Major (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
liebe_krieg) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
capeandcowllogs2010-04-16 06:32 pm
liebe_krieg) wrote in capeandcowllogs2010-04-16 06:32 pm
Entry tags:
- *in progress,
- mitchell hundred | the great machine,
- sanji | mr. prince,
- † !—dropped characters—! †,
- † agatha heterodyne | the maker,
- † garrus vakarian | the archangel,
- † geddoe | raijin,
- † jaime reyes | blue beetle,
- † lyra silvertongue | lizzie brooks,
- † n/a | the major,
- † nero | not interested--,
- † toph bei fong | blind bandit,
- † trowa barton | n/a,
- † zelgadis | greywords
And I can guide a missile by satellite
WHO: The Major and everyone who signed up to fight in the City.
WHERE: Locations across the City.
WHEN: 11 PM Friday evening.
WARNINGS: So. Much. Violence.
SUMMARY: Operation Gotterdammerung has begun, and with it Case Schwarze: a full air and ground assault against the ImPort community designed to prevent interference with the nuke in Washington. Missiles and vampires ahoy!
FORMAT: Whatever works.
NOTES: Don't forget to add your characters' tags as they join in!
Leaning back in his chair, occasionally taking the time to dictate a response to his post on the communicator, the Major watched happily as his master plan at last unfolded. It was all worth it, he could already tell. The months of planning, the prison takeover, the theft of the bomb, the kidnapping of the Detective, all the promises he’d made to his new comrades, it was all coming together right here in front of him, in the fire and explosions of detonating missiles and attacking vampires. It was the fulfillment of his most cherished dream: a war beyond any man’s history had ever known. Reports from his crew filtered in from all around him:
”Rot Team reports that they are in position Major. Package is secure.”
”Schwarze One reports commencing attack on police station.”
”Missile hit! Confirmed hit on Turing nightclub!”
”Schwarze Five, commencing assault on the Spark Roast.”
”Confirmed missile hits on both prisons!”
He sat and listened and smiled and watched. In less than an hour the device would detonate, and America’s capital would be swallowed up in a mushroom cloud. There would have to be retaliation, retaliation greater than that after Pearl Harbor, retaliation not just at those responsible but also at those who had let it happen because they were too busy looking after their own homes. There would be war, first native against ImPort, but then as things fell apart ImPort against ImPort, native against native, war between teams, countries, movements, alliances! War upon war upon war!
“It has begun,” the Major said to himself, watching the chaos unfold on the array of screens hanging from the ceiling in front of his seat, as well as through the DEM II’s vast observation window. “The dance that cannot end! The symphony I can revel in for all time! The fire that shall never burn out!”
Below, the prelude to that symphony continued.
WHERE: Locations across the City.
WHEN: 11 PM Friday evening.
WARNINGS: So. Much. Violence.
SUMMARY: Operation Gotterdammerung has begun, and with it Case Schwarze: a full air and ground assault against the ImPort community designed to prevent interference with the nuke in Washington. Missiles and vampires ahoy!
FORMAT: Whatever works.
NOTES: Don't forget to add your characters' tags as they join in!
Leaning back in his chair, occasionally taking the time to dictate a response to his post on the communicator, the Major watched happily as his master plan at last unfolded. It was all worth it, he could already tell. The months of planning, the prison takeover, the theft of the bomb, the kidnapping of the Detective, all the promises he’d made to his new comrades, it was all coming together right here in front of him, in the fire and explosions of detonating missiles and attacking vampires. It was the fulfillment of his most cherished dream: a war beyond any man’s history had ever known. Reports from his crew filtered in from all around him:
”Rot Team reports that they are in position Major. Package is secure.”
”Schwarze One reports commencing attack on police station.”
”Missile hit! Confirmed hit on Turing nightclub!”
”Schwarze Five, commencing assault on the Spark Roast.”
”Confirmed missile hits on both prisons!”
He sat and listened and smiled and watched. In less than an hour the device would detonate, and America’s capital would be swallowed up in a mushroom cloud. There would have to be retaliation, retaliation greater than that after Pearl Harbor, retaliation not just at those responsible but also at those who had let it happen because they were too busy looking after their own homes. There would be war, first native against ImPort, but then as things fell apart ImPort against ImPort, native against native, war between teams, countries, movements, alliances! War upon war upon war!
“It has begun,” the Major said to himself, watching the chaos unfold on the array of screens hanging from the ceiling in front of his seat, as well as through the DEM II’s vast observation window. “The dance that cannot end! The symphony I can revel in for all time! The fire that shall never burn out!”
Below, the prelude to that symphony continued.
Winner Corporation // Open; just setting facts, pop in where/whenever
He could hear Trowa speaking behind him, but the words seemed muffled, as if through water, and he shook his head to try and clear it.
His hand tightened briefly on the edge of the desk as other employees hurried past the door to the exits. Someone peeked in, asking if they were going to come, but Quatre had already shaken his head. Another alarm and the building trembled with the earthquake like force as a missile hit. How many people were killed? The distant look in his eyes was gone and he shouted for the man to leave. Now.
"I should have expected this. After what happened in North Korea, he must have suspected..." the power flickers out, plunging them both into pitch blackness - a few people scream from somewhere further into the building.
He could feel it: the itch of discomfort as he loosened the tie around his neck, ridding himself of it in the process, and a rush of adrenaline that quickly overrode everything else. His hands stopped shaking and the sudden shattering of nearby glass as something broke through it didn't make him start.
"We can't let him destroy the building."
STILL MAJORLY OPEN PLEASE TAG just. obv he's here and all so yeah /has to tag in too
It surprised him how willingly he'd already adopted an alternate form for the advantages of enhanced senses and sheer MS-less killing power; more so that it was the monstrous one he tended to lose control over. But he could pinpoint Quatre's location by sound and smell alone, now, and that was important. Trowa wouldn't let the blond sneak out and try something stupid and self-sacrificing. Not with his current unstable mindset. It would probably be the first thing to go through the other's mind.
And given the comment that followed, he wasn't too far wrong.
The soft thuds of unusually heavy footfalls threaded themselves along the underside of all the shouts and cries as he moved for the door of the office; the building shook again with a second impact and he dropped to all fours, snarling in defiance.
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He wasn't used to the bite of stone and schrapnel anymore; golem skin spoiled him to those kinds of hurts. Now without that shield, he found himself in a tighter pinch than he would've liked. Tch! Annoying! A quick Ray Wing and a barrier for support and he could...
...But he wouldn't.
"Dug Haut!" Zelgadis slammed his palm against the concrete, and at his command the ground ahead rumbled and shot up in man-sized spires, thwarting the movement of a pack of those...whatever they were. Mazoku? Well, if that was the case, then he had the right medicine to fix that.
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Huh, he wondered to himself, I wonder what it won?.
No time for that! He had monsters to get rid of. Luckily, his sword had traces of silver in it; enough to mortally wound the vampires who were now swarming the building. He spotted a blue man with pointed ears like Liadrin and Koltira, but he didn't recognize him.
"Sir! Are you ok?!"
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"This is my company," he countered and a nearby wall shuddered as he pulled stone from it, the obsidian weapon forming without him having to really think about it. "Trowa, I have to do what I can."
Heero and Duo had the coordinates for the sub-basement if the entrance was still accessible. They would do what they could with the mobile suits and Quatre would do what needed to be done here.
pay him no mind he thinks you're both employees
After snapping the lone word through thick jaws, he bolted down the corridor, leaping at the end and tucking himself into a ball, crashing through the already-cracked window and falling for a moment before latching onto the fire escape with strong, hefty hands, claws scraping against the metal with a painful screech as he came to a halt.
There was an enormous hole in the tower where the rest of the tower had been.
A curse, and he leapt to the nearest street-pole, sliding down the rest of the way like a deranged fur-covered fireman in the middle of a four-alarm fire. He could see two people standing there and ran to them, staring down at the tops of their heads with irritation. Snarling for attention, Trowa pointed to the last few remnants of fleeing workers.
*token blueperson minority employee//now with less tensefail
Sir! Are you okay?
The foot Zel had planned to spring off of into action leadened as he spun on the hell, snapping his head around to look...down...and stare at the small, pointy-eared boy that'd just "sir"d him. Evil, potentially-mazoku men with guns were running all about shrieking and making a mess, and this boy was just standing there?
"Get outta h--"
The rush of wind and change in the atmosphere with the arrival of something looming sent warning bells off in Zel's head. He impulsively grabbed Link by the collar and scruffed him along, leaping away from...whatever it was, landing lightly yards away. Losing that metric ton of golem weight was rather handy, now that he thought about it.
But now wasn't a good time for that. He whirled around again, glaring at whatever it was that had...
Beastman?!
Okay. Now things were just getting weird. Zelgadis hadn't met a beastman on his side since he'd worked for the bad guys. Assuming the worst--as anyone had to in this mess--he drew his sword, stepping in front of the boy he'd dragged with him.
Interesting.
sakdjhlsakdasds
He squirmed free and turned to look at whatever it was the blue man had dragged him away from. Oh, that was a big lion man. He drew his sword as well, but turned around. Lion man on one side, vampires on the other side. Link decided to go for the vampires. He jumped with a loud "TEEYAH!" scream and sliced downwards.
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He stopped just short of the window, grabbing the ledge of it in surprise and embedding a piece of glass into the soft flesh of his palm. He barely felt it, watching to make sure that Trowa had landed safely on the ground, growling at two figures standing on the sidewalk.
It wouldn't do any good to try and get to the sidewalk. Not yet. The creatures were already inside the building and it was impossible for everyone to have evacuated so quickly. No, there had to be people still here and the damage that the missiles had caused had likely destroyed part of the building.
A snarl behind him caught his attention and he turned, the curved blade catching the vampire by his neck, cutting through the soft tendon with ease and knocking the creature to the floor. The remaining glass in the window broke down to dust, reforming in his hand and turning ash-grey and then silver, curving as he brought it down, severing the neck completely.
He'd have to take the long way down, but it would give him time to find and help anyone else that was still stuck. Flicking the blood on his weapons into the wall, he started down the hallway, mentally pulling up the building's layout in his head as he went.
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Narrowing his eyes at the blue guy, distracted by the color to another set of thoughts, Trowa came to a decision. The people attacking were the enemies. He'd spared his, once before. Now he would not give the vampires the same chance to hurt the ones he needed to protect. Hopefully, neither would his companions.
Spitting out a thick-tongued word of thanks, Trowa bulled toward the crowd and leapt into the fray, clamping his mouth shut to prevent himself from ingesting any of the fiends' blood. One large hand-paw caught a vampire just below the chin on the up-jump, claws hooking into the skin and tearing the head free with the momentum of the movement; he hurled it at a second to knock it off balance and somersaulted before landing, the silver tail blade Hiruma had gifted him at Christmas slicing a red streak across the face of a third rushing to meet him.
He didn't have time to notice a few of the back-up generators already coming online in the buildings behind them, lights on the lowest floor flickering slowly back to life, or to see what the other two were doing by then. Taking a fist to the eye tends to be fairly distracting.
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Right. The ones with the guns needed to go first; that missing third of golem was something to be missed now. He'd have to be quicker than those bullets. Get close, or...No.
Better. Let's see how these things deal with some heat.
The sword was sheathed to free up his hands. Zelgadis took point behind one of the fresh spires of earth he had created earlier to evade the gunfire, readying his spell. He spun out of hiding and, "Fireball!"
The red heat he'd conjured between his palms flew out, expanding and exploding into flames as it zipped towards its mark in a congested group of shooters. On contact, those flames exploded, scattering and singing bodies with a great fury.
Good. They burned. Now it's time to see if these things have souls.
The sword sang out of its sheath once again, and Zel made his charge into the chaos he'd created, his blade starting to crackle and redden with a shaman's spell. "Astral Vine!"
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He sheathed his sword for a moment and pulled out his Grappling hook. He jumped on one of the more outward vampires and dug the grappling hook into his back. The vampire screeched in pain and cursed when the silver-containing metal entered his body, but Link had managed to put it right in that place on your back where you can't reach no matter how much you have to scratch that itch, goddamit!!
He then grabbed the end of the rope and went running around a group of them, letting the rope hang lightly around their legs. When he had completed the circle, he pulled on the rope hard; the contained group of about 7 vampires all tripped, either through direct contact with the rope or by one of the other vampires falling on top of them. Link gave a little cheer and looked behind him; it looked like the lion man was on their side and the blue elf was doing quite well on his own with magical spells. Good!
He unsheathed his sword again and closed his eyes, diving into the hoard and hoping for the best. He opened one eye in a squint so he could deliver the killing blows to the spine in the neck. It was disgusting, and terrible and difficult... but he was a hero, and he had to protect the people!
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Grabbing onto the handle of the door, the floor under his left foot collapsed, and dropped the shotel, causing it to shatter as it fell onto the floor below. A second of hesitation and he let himself drop down, wincing painfully as he landed, but getting up as quickly as possible, calling his weapon back from the floor, fixing it in the process.
Someone had to have survived. Anyone, please.
/slams back into this post god
A crowd of vampires went down a short ways away, and he managed to snare a glimpse of the little blond guy with the sword making slow but highly efficient work of freeing the creatures' heads from the restricting confines of their necks. It was impressive, considering how distasteful the act seemed to be to the stranger.
He had no such need to tiptoe around the destruction of his enemies, himself, but one never looked a gift fighter in the barrel of their gun. Or the... pommel stone of their blade... whatever. The whole damn thing was a badly mangled metaphor originating from horses and mouths anyway.
One of the leeches grabbed him round the waist; within a second he was back to his human shape and hunkered down on the ground while his assailant stood in confusion with wide, empty arms--another passed, and Trowa had changed again and rushed him, throwing the weight of the prehistoric monster into his legs. Another nearby screamed in terror at the sight of something that hadn't walked the earth in ages, but only for a moment.
meanwhile elle overuses the word "hollered"...
...Maybe. There was more on the astral plane than just mortal excesses, after all. These things acted more mazoku than man for Zelgadis' taste. No matter, they hissed and skin sizzled under the hexed blade well enough. After near a dozen of those, though...it was getting a bit troublesome. For once, he wished there was a Dragon Slave being cast nearby to...
...level everything in sight. Right. No, not a good idea. The building nearby was already unstable. If he was going to clean this up a bit faster, he needed those things away from the walls.
"Kid!" he hollered, swatting a vampire with the back of his blade to clear his view. Catching sight of the blonde, he raised his voice and waved an arm, gesturing. "Get them clumped together if you can! Away from the building!"
The beastman rushed elsewhere in Zel's peripherals. "You, too!" he called, doubting any sort of cooperation from there. Never hurt to try, did it? In the meantime, he had a bit of shepherding to do, himself.
Hollered is a fine word.
He then dove into the swirling masses, deftly avoiding their pounces and slipping between them. The vampires would have about as much luck catching him as a group of rednecks would in catching a greased pig. Emerging on the other side, Link used his grappling hook to pull himself on top of a street light, where he balanced precariously and waved his arms.
"HEYYYYY! Over here! Come and get me!!" Then in a childish feat unlike any ever seen before, Link stuck out his tongue. Then, he did something he saw a monkey do once; turned around and smacked his butt. He wasn't sure if it would work, but the vampires didn't seem to like it either way and they began to change direction.
/slams back into this himself
The lights in the hallway flickered eerily as he slammed the palm of his hand against the reader outside of the sub-basement, struggling to keep his balance as something moved just out of the corner of his eye. A shadow shifted and the vampire lunged as the door opened upon recognizing his hand print. He stumbled hard into the wall just beyond it, nearly losing his footing on the steps into the dark.
The shotels fell, hitting stairs before disappearing below and he slammed his shoulder into the creatures stomach and chest, knocking it back out onto the carpeted hall of the first floor. The door slid shut behind it, leaving him safe, but standing motionless and panting in the dark. The Major hadn't attacked Winner Corporation for no reason and Quatre needed to be certain now that he knew the surviving employees had at least made it outside to safety.
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Heero was finally feeling right at home.
He started up the Sentinel with ease. Most everything was where it had been in Wing, which made matters so much easier. Less time getting used to the suit meant more time doing what needed to be done. Heero certainly had no problem with that. After only a moment or two of situating himself and getting a general feel for what was going on, he was ready to go.
He turned on the communication between his "Suit" and the other one. "Duo. Can you read me?"
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Betrayal or not, though, the suit was just what the doctor ordered, and clearing and protecting the building were more important than anything else at the moment. "Like riding a bike," he said to himself as he made sure nothing looked out of place. Finding everything normal (not that he expected any different), he grinned at Heero's question.
"Loud and clear," he responded after turning on his own communication line. "Let's get this show on the road."
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"We'll divide once we get off this floor. You defend on the ground, I'll take care of the missiles." He was already doing the necessary trajectory calculations to find the best way to get at them before they came too close to the building.
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